#ladymockingbird

"There's a hole in my soul/I can't fill it/I can't fill it/there's a hole in my soul/can you fill it/can you fill it"

The small house had shown no signs of life. It was empty on the inside.

           Just

                          like

                                   h i m.

It had been easy to slip inside after jimmying one of the loose locks on the window and easier still to stumble to the bathroom.

Steam curled about the small room, quickly fogging the mirrors even as one hand moved to swipe across the cool glass.

A broken man stared back.

                     Broken in b o d y more than m i n d.

                                                  His mind was shattered long ago.

Blood that had once ran freely from his scalp had matted and clotted into a disgusting mess; his skin pulled angrily and the long dried fluid.

Clothes whose next stop would be in a raging fire or the bottom of a body of water lay in a crumpled heap on the cold floor. Warmth caressed his skin lovingly, the only sound was that of the running water.

Bruises, some a sickly green and yellow, others an unsightly mix of purples, blues and reds, dappled his skin. More than one laceration was trying to heal and the edges of the skin turning an angry red as they were brutally scrubbed clean.

The rivulets of water coursing over his body and pooling at his feet no longer ran clean. They were tinted with dirt and blood-- some fresh and some old.

Blood, now a vibrant red mingled with the water moments after several sharp pains ripped through his flesh. It didn't take a genius to figure out that wounds had reopened with the sudden movements. 

His head hung low, fatigue finally curling its deadly fingers around his mind.

offthethrone. It is far, far too late to deal with you, Bibian. 

{outofline} Ran out of chinhands?